


God Complex

by callunavulgari



Series: God Complex [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If it will help,” Harrison tells him slowly, tracing his thumb over the curve of Barry’s lip. “Then give it to me. All your anger. Your rage. Your hate.”</p><p>Barry trembles, all that rage faltering. Gently, he lowers Harrison back to the ground. He doesn’t step back. “And if it wasn’t just anger that I had to give?”</p><p>Harrison exhales, dragging his hands down, down, down, until they’re framing Barry’s hips the same way they had his face. He steps willingly into the heat of Barry’s body, leaning in until their lips are almost touching. Harrison isn’t the type of person to gentle himself for another’s convenience, but this time, it might be worth it to try. He smirks, and whispers, “Then, Mr. Allen, I will have that from you as well.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	God Complex

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [God Complex 上帝情結](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6992134) by [jls20011425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jls20011425/pseuds/jls20011425)



Harrison Wells knows who he is. He knows his place in the world. He is a man. A scientist. A genius. A father. He has never deluded himself with concepts such as ‘good’ or ‘evil’. The world is an endless array of grayscale. There will always be different shades, but no one person is truly good or evil. They just _are_.

People have called him many things over the years: cold, robotic, asshole. It makes no difference to him. His qualities are many and varied. Some aspects of his personality are useful, others are not. Harrison is a person, and he isn’t half so egotistical as to imply that he is perfect. No one truly is. He _is_ an asshole. He _is_ cold. And maybe he’s even robotic. He’s short and to the point, and can’t be bothered with something as pithy as empathy.  
  
Harrison is not a good person. Nor is he evil. He just is.

What he truly is, is observant. To get where he is in life, he’s had to be. Cleverness goes hand in hand with observation. Knowledge is power, and he’s had a thirst for both since he was very small.

This earth is different than his own. The people in it, even the ones with familiar faces, are just slightly off-center. But truth — fact — is universal.

The fact in question is this: Barry Allen looks at him.

Not the way the others do, either. Cisco Ramon looks at Harrison like a boy who has been betrayed by a father and subsequently lost him. As if he doesn’t know whether to be angry or relieved to just have him back, to see him again. Caitlin looks at him much the same way, but like she badly wants to redeem him as well. She wants to see the good in him again, even while knowing that Harrison isn’t the man she used to know. Joe West looks at him like he’s a ticking time bomb, and the others don’t matter.

Barry though. Barry shares all of these emotions with his friends, but with him, there is something else as well. By now, Harrison is used to being regarded with different degrees of anger, sorrow, and suspicion. But Barry, Barry looks at him with _want_.

The desire to covet. _Lust_.

Barry’s eyes linger on all of the best parts of Harrison. They practically dance over him, as if he’d received x-ray vision along with superspeed. And, Harrison knows this the way he knows all things, but Barry Allen knows exactly what is beneath Harrison’s clothes. For all that little things have changed about the people between the two earths—personality, pasts, futures—they all look similar enough.

When Barry looks at him, it’s not with the eyes of someone who wants to discover all the secret spots on any one person. It’s with the eyes of someone who has _already_ unlocked those secrets, and wants badly to bring them all back into the open and look at them again. Barry wants to peel off all of Harrison’s clothes, lay him out on a bed, and map out his body all over again. Lips, tongue, teeth, hands, cock. Barry wants to touch, badly, and Harrison is not, and never will be, a “good” person, because he’s half-inclined to let him.

Barry is good looking. Young, most definitely. Maybe even too young, if Harrison were in his own world. On his own earth, Harrison would never dream to look at a man that could almost be one of his daughter’s classmates. But on this world, Harrison is alone. His daughter is gone—not dead, not yet—but gone. On this world, Harrison is a desperate caricature of who he once was.

And maybe, he thinks, this is one way that the counterfeit Wells of this world made Barry better. Maybe he’d taken Barry to bed just so he would have that level of trust. That when he tried to grow and shape Barry as the Flash, Barry would be more inclined to listen to a lover than a mentor.

Maybe that would work in his favor as well.

.

The lab is quiet. It isn’t usually. There is always noise. Laughter, the crunch of snack bags, the slurp of Cisco’s soft drinks. Soft trills and beeps from the machinery. The steady whir of the treadmill and the beat of Barry’s feet upon it.

Tonight, he is by himself.

Except, Harrison realizes as he rounds the corner, not quite.

Barry is sitting behind one of the computer terminals in the main room, his shoulders slumped, head hung low between his knees, the very picture of defeat. The suit clings to him like a second skin, but the cowl is gone, leaving behind rumpled brown hair, damp with sweat. Harrison takes a step nearer, his steps light.

Another step, then another.

Barry is turning something over in his hands, over and over, scrutinizing it like it holds the secrets of the universe.

Harrison stops and clears his throat. Here is close enough.

“Rough night?”

Barry starts, his eyes darting around the room frantically before he spots Harrison. For a moment, he tenses, fight or flight surging through him so quickly that if Harrison were any other person, he wouldn’t have even spotted the aberration. For a fraction of a second, Barry fools himself into thinking that Harrison is another Wells entirely.

The moment passes. Memory returns, and Barry’s shoulders slump once more, this time in relief.

“Wells,” he sighs, leaning backwards into the chair. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone would be here this late.”

Harrison smirks, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve always been an overachiever. Late nights at the lab are second nature by now.”

When she was a girl, Jesse had hated him for it. But as she grew, and her own late nights had happened more and more frequently, she had grudgingly forgiven him. Barry laughs hollowly, ducking his head, eyes skittering away.

Right. Barry already knew that about him. Had probably spent more than a few late nights here himself, with the other Wells — with _Thawne_ — whispering in his ear.

“Yeah,” Barry says around a cough. He clears his throat. “Yeah, the other Wells did that too.”

Harrison sighs, but doesn’t bother to remind Barry that they aren’t the same. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. Barry knows. Remembering is a different story.

“You were close,” he remarks, sidling closer and propping his hip against the console nearest to Barry. “You and my esteemed counterpart.”

Barry tips his head back to look up at him, a glint of irritation appearing in his eyes, there and gone again, quick as a blink. In the end, he settles on a nod. “I mean, yeah, I guess. Close as any of us here.”

Harrison blinks, cocking his head. “Closer.”

Barry flinches guiltily, dropping the thing he’d been holding between his spread feet. Ah, the wayward cowl. That’s what it was. “What?”

“You were closer to him than the others,” he explains, pushing himself off of the console and bending to retrieve the garment. He can feel Barry track his progress with his eyes, hear the way he draws a startled breath at the sight of Harrison crouched between his legs. Harrison wraps a hand around the material, glancing up at Barry before he rises. He quirks an eyebrow, lips tilting up at the corners. “Cisco has never looked at me the way you have, Mr. Allen.”

Barry lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes wide as Harrison pushes himself back to his feet. “I don’t-”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Harrison interrupts with a chuckle. It isn’t a nice sound. “I have eyes, Mr. Allen. As do you. I know that you watch me.”

Barry’s face is pale, his jaw clenched. His fingers are clenched so tightly to the arms of his chair that the knuckles have gone white. Harrison sighs, stepping away and out of the vee of Barry’s spread legs.

For a long moment, there is only silence. Then, “So you know. That...”

Harrison gives Barry a long look. “That he fucked you?”

Barry draws in another deep breath. “It wasn’t quite that simple.”

He gives Barry a pitying look, shaking his head. “Sex is always simple. Feelings are what complicate things.” He stops, considering. “ _Did_ you have feelings for him, Mr. Allen?”

The silence that follows is telling. “So, you had feelings for him. And then he betrayed you.”

Barry surges to his feet, fists balled at his sides. His teeth are bared, and for a moment, Harrison thinks that Barry is going to hit him. Instead, he laughs.

“It wasn’t that simple,” he hisses, taking a step into Harrison’s space. “When I was little, he tried to kill me. When that didn’t work, he murdered my mother, and spent the next fifteen years stalking me. He made me what I am. He took me in, turned me into a superhero, and yeah, he fucked me. But there was no betrayal. It was just part of his plan all along.”

Harrison holds his ground. “But to you, it was a betrayal. He made you into a dancing puppet and he held the strings.”

This time, he’s sure that Barry’s going to hit him. His whole body tightens and Harrison braces himself, so he’s ready for it when Barry growls, reaching out and fisting his hands in the fabric of his shirt. Barry hefts him easily, moving them across the room in a flash of light and slamming him back against the wall. It hurts in a vague sort of way, but Harrison is used to pain. At least this pain might be getting him somewhere.

Harrison tips his head back and laughs. “Will hurting me really help you?” he asks, a mocking tilt to his mouth. “The man you want is gone. Wiped from existence. I just happen to have his face. Or rather, he had mine. So, ask yourself that, Mr. Allen. Will hurting me _help_?”

Barry’s eyes are sparking, lightning and grief and hatred, and it’s _exhilarating_. Did Thawne look at this boy and feel powerful too? Did he feel the euphoria of creating a legend when he fucked him? Did he relish in having all this power in his hands? Maybe. Maybe.

“No,” Barry gasps. “But it might make me feel better.”

“Then give it to me,” he breathes, raising his hands to frame Barry’s face. He strokes a strand of sweaty hair away from Barry’s brow and watches the confusion unfold across the boys face. Here, like this, with his feet dangling two feet above the ground, Harrison feels more powerful than he has since he turned on the particle accelerator.

“What?”

Harrison smirks, stroking his hand down Barry’s cheek until his thumb is pressing against the corner of Barry’s mouth. The touch is gentle, but if he forced it, he knows that Barry would yield. His lips would part and he would take Harrison’s finger into his mouth. Muscle memory.

“If it will help,” Harrison tells him slowly, tracing his thumb over the curve of Barry’s lip. “Then give it to me. All your anger. Your rage. Your hate.”

Barry trembles, all that rage faltering. Gently, he lowers Harrison back to the ground. He doesn’t step back. “And if it wasn’t just anger that I had to give?”

Harrison exhales, dragging his hands down, down, down, until they’re framing Barry’s hips the same way they had his face. He steps willingly into the heat of Barry’s body, leaning in until their lips are almost touching. Harrison isn’t the type of person to gentle himself for another’s convenience, but this time, it might be worth it to try.

He smirks, and whispers, “Then, Mr. Allen, I will have that from you as well.”

Barry shudders and slumps forward, until his brow is pressed to Harrison’s. His whole body is quaking, vibrating with something other than speed force. “Stop calling me that.”

Harrison presses a gentle kiss to Barry’s temple, his lips dragging slowly over the skin. Barry tastes of sweat and simple skin. There is no lightning to taste. It’s just skin, same as any that Harrison has touched, but there’s something electric about the act anyway, something thrilling in the way he makes a soft sound at the contact, as if the sound has been punched out of him.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Harrison whispers. What was it that Cisco had said? Up the creep factor. Be sincere, as if the love is real, but he’ll have to kill him anyway. “Or do you crave the reminder? How did your Wells whisper to you in the night, Barry Allen? Did you go down on your knees before him? Did he have you crawl into his lap? Give you the illusion of choice? Did he push all the right buttons? Or did he soften all his edges and make you _take_ what you wanted?”

With a casual cruelness, he nips at Barry’s ear, teeth digging into cartilage until Barry hisses. Harrison chuckles, his breath dampening the skin beneath it. “At the end, how did he look at you? Was it with hatred? Or was it _love_?”

Barry reels back with a yell, his eyes on fire, but he doesn’t run. No, he does not run. He surges forward instead, sealing their lips together in a furious kiss that has Harrison’s head thumping back painfully into the wall behind him. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, wild with all Barry’s abandonment and grief. He wants this, wants it so badly that his body is truly vibrating with it, his frame blurred at the edges.

Harrison kisses back, not with the same wild passion, but with an infuriating slowness, smiling into the kiss when Barry gives a low cry of frustration. It isn’t the same. He knows that he is a good actor, but for all that the others have informed him of Thawne’s shortcomings, he did not truly know the man. He was never a specter in any of his and Barry’s previous trysts. Does not know how they touched. Kissed. Fucked.

But he has suspicions. And hypotheses are only proved right or wrong once they are tested.

He reaches between them, palming Barry’s dick easily. It’s good. Hard. Aching, most likely, Harrison’s touch little more than a tease through the fabric. Barry moans, his lips going slack under Harrison’s, his head falling back. Harrison takes advantage of the moment and gets his teeth around Barry’s throat, biting softly. He whispers, “Undress, Mr. Allen.”

It shouldn’t surprise him that Barry speeds his way through it, but it’s still strange to feel naked skin under his hands a mere moment after the words have been whispered. Harrison laughs, running his hand across Barry’s newly bared stomach, dragging his nails through the slight hair there before dipping down again.

“So hasty,” he teases, wrapping a hand around Barry’s cock. “Eager, are we?”

Barry hisses, his mouth twisting like it doesn’t know what it wants to do. Pleasure, pain, grief. A smile. Instead, it shapes something like all of those, and the result is barely more than a grimace. “Just fuck me, Wells.”

Harrison snorts, arching one brow at him. “And how should I do that? You’ve given me no supplies.”

For the space of a second, Harrison’s hands are empty. And then Barry is back again, pressing a tube of lube into his hands. “No condom?” Harrison asks, brows drawing in with concern.

Barry shrugs. “My Wells never needed them. Take it or leave it.”

Harrison hesitates, jaw tightening. There is nothing that he could give this child. The last person that he fucked was years ago, but this act is more intimate then he was counting on. There’s trust there, or at least the farce of it.

He clucks his tongue against his teeth, annoyed, but takes the lube anyway. “And how should I have you? Against the wall? Bent over the terminals that we work at every day? Or perhaps you’d prefer setting your own pace? Surely being the Flash has it’s own set of perks in that regards.”

“I don’t care,” Barry tells him simply, affixing his mouth to the place that Harrison’s neck and jaw meet. He bites down, hard enough to mark him, pain flaring briefly. He licks it afterwards, half apologetic, and adds, “As long as you do it. And soon.”

“As you wish,” Harrison tells him, pushing him back towards the terminals in the center of the room with a hand to the small of his back. He undresses as he goes, shedding layer after layer as Barry turns to watch him with his hungry eyes.

“Am I that different?” Harrison asks as Barry’s expression twists into something just a little lost.

“The opposite,” Barry tells him with a shake of his head. “You’re the same. Everything.”

Harrison growls, leaning in and caging Barry against the desk with his arms. “Not everything, Mr. Allen.”

Barry looks up at him, smirking, a glint of challenge in his eyes as he purrs, “ _Everything_ , Dr. Wells.”

“We’ll see,” Harrison warns, leaning in to lick a long stripe up the pale stretch of Barry’s offered throat. It works beneath him, adam’s apple bobbing as Barry swallows, his breath catching in his throat. He’ll want this fast, of course. Everything about Barry is fast, from his actual speed to his mannerisms. Even the way he talks. This would be no different.

But Thawne, Harrison thinks. He would have made it slow.

“Turn around,” he breathes.

This, at least, is familiar. Harrison has always taken his time with prep, no matter the sex of his partner. He likes to make them tremble, likes to lick and suck and touch until they’re begging. So leaning down and tracing his tongue around the rim of Barry’s hole is no trial. Licking into Barry until he’s keening and only then adding finger after slow and steady finger isn’t something that he regrets. He takes his time with this, the minutes stretching, so by the time he is ready, there are sparks dancing around Barry’s body.

The first push inside though… That has always been Harrison’s favorite part. Feeling his partner’s body yielding to his, hearing the way their breath catches, and wondering what they’ll do. If they’ll hold still and wait for him to move, or if they’ll push back against him, frantic with desperation.

Barry is the type to push. Waiting isn’t in his repertoire, and the moment Harrison is inside of him, he’s moving back greedily, eager to take inch after inch, until there’s nothing else.

Harrison gets a firm grip of his hip, patting his flank gently with his other hand. “Steady on, Mr. Allen.”

Barry whines, his hips twisting, and Harrison has to roll his eyes.

When his hand connects with Barry’s rear, Barry jolts, his ears going red. Harrison chuckles, tucking that information away for later use. “I said, _steady_.”

Harrison fucks him slow and steady, relishing in the way that Barry writhes beneath him, bucking and thrashing when he forgets himself and doesn’t hold still. He’s a good fuck, better than many that Harrison has had before. He whimpers and whines like a porn star, but the awkwardness of a freshly plucked virgin is there as well. Thawne may not have been Barry’s first, but Barry doesn’t have the years of experience to back him up. Harrison is willing to bet that there have only been one or two others, and that until Thawne, neither of those were repeats.

“You’re so good for me,” he purrs when he’s getting close, reaching around and getting a firm grip on Barry’s dick. “So very good, Mr. Allen.”

“Barry,” Barry pants, pushing back against him, sweat slicking his brow. “Call me Barry.”

Harrison smirks, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top knobs of Barry’s spine.

“Barry,” he whispers. “Such a good boy.”

Barry tosses his head, his form starting to flicker around the edges. His whole body is vibrating and Harrison has to grit his teeth against the sensation. He’s fading fast and he just needs a little bit more, just a little.

“Now,” he breathes, panting hard against the side of Barry’s neck. “Now, Barry, do it now!”

Barry comes _beautifully_.

.

“So,” Harrison says later, cradling a mug of coffee between two hands. They’ve migrated to the break room for some much needed sustenance and Barry is currently crouched in front of the mini-fridge, unapologetically nude. “Did that make you feel any better?”

Barry rocks back on his heels to look at him, contemplative.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, reaching into the fridge and coming back with something labeled ‘CISCO’S DO NOT TOUCH. THAT MEANS YOU BARRY.’

Harrison takes the time to evaluate him while the concoction is heating in the microwave. The anger is all but gone, Barry’s body slack and sated. Unconcerned. But he’d smiled at Harrison afterwards, so sweetly that it made his teeth ache.

“Well,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. He wrinkles his nose. Too bitter. “Experiments such as this often require additional testing.”

Barry blinks, tearing his eyes away from the glow of the microwave. He looks at Harrison, a small smile on his face. It isn’t as sweet as the one before, but it’s warm. Content. Still no trace of anger.

“Yeah?”

Harrison nods, setting his coffee aside and stepping into Barry’s space. Barry accepts him readily, hands going to Harrison’s waist. The smile is still there when he leans in to accept Harrison’s kiss, and this time there is no desperation. No pain, no rage. It’s just a kiss. A warm, thorough kiss that makes Harrison’s toes curl against the cold tile of the floor.

And maybe in the end, he’ll get more out of this than the other Wells did. More than just Zoom’s death and his daughter’s rescue. More than the heady rush of creation and then a door home. Maybe, if he plays the game right, he might even get something worth _keeping_ , at least for a little while.

Harrison smiles, just a little bit. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> God, it feels like it's been forever since I dipped my toes in a new fandom. Come visit me at my [tumblr](http://callunavulgari.tumblr.com/) and give my dash some much needed Flash appreciation.


End file.
